


The Commander's House

by LostCauses (Anteros)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, eruri - Freeform, post chapter 84
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anteros/pseuds/LostCauses
Summary: It doesn’t get any easier.  The pain doesn’t dull.  It’s as sharp and bright as it was four years ago in Shiganshina.  There are settlements outside the walls now; farms and villages, homesteads dotted along the rivers and valleys, straggling along the coast.  But Levi always returns to the walls, back to Shiganshina.Levi remembers the dead on the fourth anniversary of their return from Shiganshina.





	The Commander's House

It doesn’t get any easier. The pain doesn’t dull. It’s as sharp and bright as it was four years ago in Shiganshina. It’s just buried deeper. Carved into his bones, woven into his sinews, twined around his heart, his lungs. Some days it feels like it’s strangling him, suffocating him from the inside out. Other days Levi knows it’s the only thing holding him together. 

But he keeps on going. He does his job, leads reconnaissance missions beyond the walls, accompanies the surveyors and cartographers as they map every inch of the island. Strange to think that all this time they have been on an island, and that out there, across the ocean, is a world vast beyond their comprehension. He wonders what Erwin would have made of it all. 

There are settlements outside the walls now; farms and villages, homesteads dotted along the rivers and valleys, straggling along the coast. But Levi always returns to the walls. To Shiganshina. 

He buys the house. The one where they laid Erwin to rest. Repairs it with his own hands. Hanji had it cleared out, burning every last stick of furniture when they removed the body. _His_ body. When they took Erwin away. “We can’t risk spreading disease, Levi.” He knew that of course, he’s not a fucking idiot. Growing up in the Underground, he saw first hand how quickly disease could spread. But he saves the bottle from beside the bed, washes it carefully, and every time he visits, he fills it with fresh flowers. 

People call it The Commander’s House now and the local children whisper that it’s haunted. It is, but only by Levi. He inhabits the house like a restless spirit. He doesn’t really live there. He doesn’t really live anywhere. He just exists. 

Levi moves some of Erwin’s belongings into the house; his books, personal papers, a few clothes. He claims a worn uniform and weathered cloak, the threadbare shirt with the ink stain on the sleeve, old boots, worn and scuffed by wear. They hang in the wardrobe in the bright upper room now. Erwin’s dress uniform, the one with the gold braid and the sleeve pinned back, is in the museum at the cenotaph. Levi tries not to think about tearing open the buttons of that uniform, tries not to picture it lying in a crumpled heap of gilt and braid on the floor beside the bed, tries not to feel the weight of his Commander, lying hot and heavy on top of him, slick with sweat and consumed with desire. 

_Levi, fuck…Levi…_

Sometimes Levi sits in the room at the top of the house and reads or just listens to the sounds from the street below; children playing, a dog barking, the notes of a blackbird singing somewhere. But if he closes his eyes he can still smell the blood and the ash and the entrails. Still feel the titan blood evaporating from his skin. Still hear the words “teacher…how…find out…don’t exist?” more real than the sounds of laughter filtering in through the window. _That_ was Levi’s world, not this one.

* * *

“Levi!” Hanji yells. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lands heavily beside them, ankle giving way as he hits the ground awkwardly. Fuck. That’s been happening more often these day. 

“Training.” He replies as he dusts himself off. “What does it look like?”

“Actually it looks like you’re trying to destroy the training course. I thought I said I didn’t want to see you here today? Didn’t I order you to take the day off?”

Levi looks away and lets the silence stretch between them. Eventually Hanji sighs. 

“We missed you earlier.”

“Who’s we?” 

“Me. I did, Levi. And the Queen, and the Corps, all of us.”

Levi doesn’t reply, so Hanji continues. 

“Historia asked for you. She wanted to know how you are.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her I didn’t know.” 

Levi snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” 

Hanji gives him a flat stare. 

It’s the fourth anniversary of their return from Shiganshina. Historia has designated it a public holiday, not a celebration mind, a day of reflection and remembrance, and it’s marked each year with a service at the cenotaph. The cenotaph is an imposing monument in the heart of Mitras. A somber memorial surmounted by an everlasting flame of hope. The only adornment is the Survey Corps emblem, the Wings of Freedom, and the simple inscription “They Gave Their Hearts”. To the right there is a bust; white marble, a remarkable likeness people say, dignified and noble. Levi has seen it only once. He wanted to scratch at the cold smooth surface of the stone to see if it bleeds, to see if it suffers, like he suffered. 

“I thought you’d have wanted to be there,” Hanji continues quietly.

“Why?”

“You know, honoring his…” they stop, “honoring _their_ memory. Remembrance and all that.” 

Levi rounds on them, snapping like an open blade. 

“You think I need to stand in front of a fucking block of marble to remember?” he spits. “You think I don’t remember every day? Every _fucking_ second of every _fucking_ day?” 

He knows it’s unjust. He knows Hanji remembers. Of course they do. Hanji carries their own wounds. They lost more than just their eye that day and the pain of their loss is etched deep in their face. But right now he doesn’t care, he wants them to feel that pain. To feel the pain that he feels. Keep it burning fierce and hot and bright. 

Hanji stares at him for a long moment, before removing their glasses and rubbing their eye. They look tired. 

“Give it a rest Levi, the recruits need to train.”

“Why?” 

That earns him a glare.

“You know this war is far from over Levi.” 

“Has it even begun?” 

“Ha!” Hanji barks a mirthless laugh. “Get the fuck out of here Levi and let the kids do their thing.”

“I’m not stopping them,” he shrugs. 

“Yes, actually, you are.” 

“How?” 

“They’re terrified to come out here while you’re flying around like the spirit of vengeance destroying everything in sight.” 

It’s only then that he bothers to look at the small group of cadets huddled miserably on the perimeter of the training ground. One catches his eye and looks away hurriedly. 

“Levi,” Hanji places a hand on his shoulder, “just…go home.”

* * *

It’s late when he reaches Shiganshina. The sun is setting but the streets are still busy, taverns thronged with people who have shrugged off the somber mood of the morning and are taking they opportunity to celebrate the fact that they are the ones that lived. 

He stops at the bar at the top of the street to buy a bottle of wine. A few old soldiers salute as he enters. They all remember him, to some he’s still a hero, still Humanity’s Strongest, to most he’s a pariah, but he will always be Survey Corps and that is enough to command respect. On this day more than most. The bartender refuses his money, insists on giving him the wine on the house. “For the Commander,” he adds. Levi thanks him and leaves. 

It’s a short walk to the nondescript house at the far end of the street. It’s silent when he enters. This house is always silent. 

“I’m home,” he says to no one in particular. 

His leg aches as he climbs the stairs and he stifles a groan as he drops gratefully into the chair by the bed. He pours a glass of wine and lifts it high in salute. 

“Erwin you old bastard.”

Then he drinks. The wine is thin and bitter. 

“I miss you.” 

Tomorrow, he’ll replace the flowers.


End file.
